THE news last week that McDonald's will shortly be entitled to
hand out MacAlevels raises depressing questions about the future of
Britain - and of humanity in general. Why not go the whole hog? Why not
eliminate the distinction between commercial activity and academe? Why
not dump non-money-making subjects such as history, literature and
philosophy, and organise kids to throw cold chips and coleslaw at anyone
who wants to study them?

'Let's not get snobbish about this' say all the
commentators as preface to their snobbish thoughts on the subject. But
why the hell not? When was there last an occasion when a bit of
lip-curling was so obviously justified? What it reminds us is that
everything in the world is still in the process of being dumbed down,
and the process is continuing because dumbing-down works.

Look at TV. I don't mean that literally. I mean, look at what
has happened to TV. A couple of decades ago pessimists advanced the then
implausible idea that soon we'd have 500 channels, and nothing to
watch on any of them. How nearly right they were. If it weren't for
sport, and maybe Jon Snow and Jeremy Paxman, you might as well set fire
to your TV, or just see if it floats. That which is dumb gets better
viewing figures than that which encourages, or - biggest crime of all -
requires thought. That's not a theory. It's a fact.

So what is racing doing about this? To what extent are we following
the iron laws of economics by making our sport more
'accessible' (revolting word) to those with slack jaws and
room-temperature IQs? Sweet Football Association is the answer. Here is
what we should be doing. We should be making our essentially cerebral
sport much less complicated. We should be banning all interviews with
people who speak racing jargon. We should be eliminating form study,
that bane of the innumerate and the intellectually challenged. We should
be running races that last no more than 30 seconds, so that attention
spans remain as far as possible unstretched. Hang on a minute, though.
The bookies have already done it. Welcome to Steepledowns.

"British racing is the Titanic . . . and I'm just the
first one into the lifeboat," said Nigel Shields explaining why he
has moved his operations. He doesn't mind identifying the iceberg.
It's the offcourse bookmaking industry. We had the choice between
prize-money and the right to bet with bookmakers, and we made the wrong
decision. Still, no going back now. In other countries, things are
different. The tote monopolies have their profits skimmed by only
government. So horses run for proper prizes. So Nigel's gone to
America, where bookies go to jail.

It's not as though all bookies are bad eggs. Far from it. Many
are excellent fellows who love racing as deeply as you or I. But their
loyalty has to be to their shareholders. There is no advantage to their
shareholders in allowing racing one penny more than is squeezed out of
them for the levy; no advantage at all in promoting top-class racing
while dross serves the turnover process just as well. Don't blame
them. Understand them. What's harder to understand is why many sets
of owners (though not Nigel Shields) will send horses out for a prize
that will cover only a couple of months' training expenses if they
win it.

SHIELDS is a computer man. Another computer man was lost to racing
last week. Alan Woods was allegedly the most successful punter of all
time. When he died in Manila, surrounded by the Filipina lovelies who
made his declining years agreeable, he didn't know how much money
he had, or in how many different currencies. Rumour suggests the
equivalent of about half a billion sterling.

Woods had three things going for him: an extraordinary mathematical
mind; a willingness to work very hard not just at form but on everything
that might affect a horse's performance; and a country, with huge
betting pools and a small horse population, where he could know that
integrity was as near absolute as man can make it. The way integrity is
imposed in Hong Kong is draconian. Even a slight whiff of corruption
loses a licence.

There are all sorts of reasons why Woods could never have worked in
Britain, but the most important is that here there's never been a
successful prosecution for corruption in racing, and now there probably
never will be. We should all rejoice that the innocent walked free from
the Old Bailey, but perhaps our joy should not be unconfined.
There's another iceberg on the horizon, and it even has a name.
It's called Carte Blanche.

Big Mac and fries please - and a PhD in Burger Flipping while
you're at it. You can never have too many qualifications these
days.

'We should eliminate form study, that bane of the
intellectually challenged'

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